Dear Lemon-Lima
by Darkened-Innocence
Summary: A 2P!America X Reader. Al meets a new girl. She's a mystery, and no matter how hard Al tries, he just can't seem to get her. He also finds himself quickly falling for her, even though she writes letters to dead people. Al wants to tell her that he knows all of her secrets, but he can't seem to, because they were meant for Lemon-Lima, not him. What will Al do? How will he tell her?
1. Prologue

2P! America X Reader: Dear Lemon-Lima (Prologue)

Blood, gore, that's it for now.

Pain racks through my body, almost black blood pools around me. I hear someone yelling at me, but I can't make out what's being said, or who is speaking. Blobs and smears of color make their way toward me. Somehow, I know that they won't hurt me.

Now, you're probably wondering how I got into this mess. I guess it would make sense to start from the beginning, or at least, how this mess first started I should say. It all really started a year ago. I used to be a very shy person, well, I still am a shy person. The only difference is that I express myself a little better now, which is why I'm now in this mess. I had started writing letters to a dead person, you know, the one who created Lemon-Lima, only I called her lemon-Lima since I didn't know her real name. Every time Tuesday before school I would go on my paper route and drive by an abandoned house, or at least I thought it was abandoned. I was given one of the bad neighborhoods near my school. Why, you ask? Well, the answer to that is because no one EVER notices me, so I can ride through and go unharmed or not be harassed. Another reason is because I'm not very sociable, and I scowl all the time. Apparently that makes me one of 'them'. Yeah, I have a temper, and a foul mouth, but I'm not mean because I enjoy it, most of the time anyway. There are people though who deserve my kindness, and there are those who don't.

The reason I'm so grown up and well, me? My mom is in an asylum, and my dad has been M.I.A. since I was little, so I'm on my own. Why is my mom in an asylum? Well, she's not exactly sane anymore. She couldn't take care of herself, let alone me. When I put my mom in I faked my dad's signature, and said that he left for a business trip to China and couldn't turn it in himself. I also said that he hired someone to look after me while he was away. It was a lie of course since he is currently M.I.A. and has been for the past couple of years. There's no way I'm going to go live at a home, not in a million years. I get work when and where I can, and the one blessing my dad left when he disappeared, was that he paid off the house, so there's no payments that need to be paid. The only things I pay for is the electricity, water/sewer, and the garbage/recycling. I try to recycle everything that can be recycled, but I'm not perfect.

Anyway, back to the point. I needed a way to get my feelings out, so I started writing to Lemon-Lima, and leaving them in an abandoned mansions mailbox. I thought I was fine until I got a reply from Lemon-Lima. Not the actual person, but _someone_ was replying to me. Being the idiot I am, I continued to send the letters. Over time 'Lemon-Lima' and I became 'friends'. Strange things started happening, people started noticing me, people were more scared of me than before, and I didn't have a clue on what was going on. I guess I'll shut up for now and let you go on…


	2. Chapter 1

2P! America X Reader: Dear Lemon-Lima Ch.1

Violence, swearing, blood, etc.….

I stop my black motorcycle and set the kick stand down. There's an old mansion. It has boarded up windows, the paint is fading and peeling. The front lawn is covered in weeds. Beer cans and trash litter the walkway and lawn. It looked like the only thing it was used for were the occasional party. So I figured the mansions mailbox was as good as any. I quickly look around, to see if the coast was clear. It is. I drop the enveloped letter into the mailbox and kick my kickstand back up. I rev the engine and tear down the road to school.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Al's P.O.V. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I watch as a girl on a black motorcycle stops by our mailbox. It's odd because no one knows we live here. So we NEVER get any mail, we don't even get any of the newspapers she throws in the mornings. I watch her leave, then when she's out of sight I go down to our mailbox and extract the letter from within it. It's a plain white envelope with two black cursive 'L's. I'm tempted to just throw it out, but why would she leave a mysterious letter in an 'abandoned' mansion's mailbox? There's a stain on the pristine back, right where one would put, in the old days, a wax seal was a smear of crimson blood. She sealed the letter with blood. This intrigues me, so I open it. I read the following:

'Dear Lemon-Lima,

It seems that I have been left alone again. My mother is in an asylum, and my father has been M.I.A. since I was small. I don't even know what he looks like, or who he is. All I know is his name, which is on a few receipts my mother saved. I am alone and invisible. No one takes their time to know me, the real me, not the one created by rumors, though some may be true. There's no one I call 'my friend'. Sometimes I wonder if I'm even sane any more. I mean, come on, I'm writing to a dead person. How can I not be insane? I guess I just need a way to get all the pent up emotion out, and a way to express myself. Hence the letters to a dead person. People look down on me and I can't seem to ignore it anymore, even though to others it looks like I am. Maybe today will be better…

~Lonely and Suicidal'

It was an attempted call for help, for a friend. I'm really not the person to ask for help, or a friend. Well, unless it's a fight. Maybe I know this girl. Somehow I know it's a girl who wrote this letter, but maybe that's because it was a girl who dropped it in the mailbox. Her motorcycle and helmet were pretty sweet. I guess I'm going to school today.

"ARTHUR, MATT, FRANCIS! GET YOUR SORRY ASSES DOWN HERE! IF YOU'RE NOT IN THE CAR IN TEN MINUTES I'M COMING UP THERE AND KICKING YOUR ASSES!" I yell up the stairs, I go to the kitchen and grab some of my left over tofu from last night. If I'm going, they sure as hell are coming too. Arthur bounds down the stairs. He's wearing a bright baby pink button up shirt, a light purple vest, an electric blue bow tie, and a pair of light tan slacks. The darkest article of clothing in his outfit are his black dress shoes. He's a fucking bundle of energy.

"YEAH! We're going to school! School, school, school!" He pauses and looks at me angrily. "You should have told me! I would have made cupcakes for my classes, and teachers, and the principal, and all my friends!" Arthur whines at me. I shrug and hand him the letter and envelope. "What's this?"

"I watched a girl stick it in our mailbox and ride off toward the high school. I was going to throw it away, but curiosity got the best of me. I want to find out who she is." I said passively. Arthur's eyes get real big and light up at the prospect of getting a new friend, but as he reads the letter his expression darkens and his aura grows black and angry.

"GET YOUR BLOODY ARSES DOWN HERE AND GET IN THE FUCKING CAR!" Arthur screams up the stairs. I expected him to react, but nothing quite like this. He fucking swore. I don't think I've ever seen Matt and Francis move so fast. Hell, they even were tripping over each other trying to get down the stairs. I for one high tailed it out to my baby and started her up. She was a black four door, four wheel drive, 600 horse power hemi-engine, and, of course, a nitro injector, jeep. No body drove this girl but me. Matt climbed into the front seat, and Arthur and Francis climbed into the back. I gunned it and tore down the street.

When we got to school, we were, of course, late. I parked my baby next to the slick motorcycle that I saw the mystery girl drive off on. When Matt and Francis saw it they let out low whistles. I couldn't blame them, it was a pretty sweet bike. When we walked into the school we were swarmed by girls. The only girl who didn't swarm us was a (F/C) haired girl. Her hair was (L/H) and her eyes were the purest looking (F/C) orbs I've ever seen. Or at least they were until the girl who was trying to throw herself into my pants noticed me looking at her. She took the pen in her hand and threw it at the (F/C) haired girl. She noticed this and caught it. Her (F/C) orbs filled with anger and hatred, it was like looking into the depths of Hell. The girl standing next to me shivered in fear and shrunk closer to me. The (F/C) haired girl tightened her hand around the shaft of the pen. We heard a cracking sound and then she clinched her fist tighter and the pen crumbled. Ink sprayed her jacket and skin. It dripped down her face like blood. She drops the pen and walks toward us. A murderous looking smirk etched itself onto her face. She grabbed the frightened girls color and picked her up off the ground.

"What the hell was the hell was that for Kitten?" She sneers. The girl she's holding shakes in anger.

"DON'T CALL ME KITTEN! MY NAMES KATRINA!" She yells at the girl holding her. The (F/C) haired girl chuckles. I feel a shiver make its way down my spine.

"I'll call you whatever I want to. You don't control me."

"I threw the pen at you because you stole my look and now you're trying to steal my man!" The (F/C) haired girls face goes blank. A bored look spreads across her face. She cocks an eyebrow.

"You're look? HA! If anyone should be accusing anyone of stealing their look, it's me. I've worn the jacket every day for the last seven years. Your jacket is brand new. And fake. That's not even real leather! And as far as you're 'man' is concerned, I have no interest. I was on my way to class. Which, now, thanks to you, I'm late." The (F/C) haired girl drops the shivering blonde girl and runs a hand through her hair, streaking the red ink through it. Then she turns and begins to walk away. I quickly grab her arm. She stops and I can almost feel her aura trying to kill me. She expertly flips me through the air and down the hall. Her eyes burn into mine. "Do not touch me."

I watch as she walks away, she was a sexy swinging walk, like the one described in that song 'She's Country'. Matt and Francis are laughing at me. I get up and wince. Oh, that's gonna bruise. I look at the blonde girl.

"Since when was I 'you're man'? I don't remember agreeing to that, bitch. If I want you I'll have you. But I don't. So keep your hands to yourself." I say getting up and going to my class. My crew follow me. In our class room we find The BTT, and our twins. The girl who flipped me this morning was there too. I sit down next to my twin and he stiffens. "What's that girl's name?"

"Oh, you mean _? Yeah that's her. She's great and all, but she never lets me be the hero. She always has everything taken care of by the time I get there. But, oh man, can she party. I never consider throwing a party unless I know she can come. Other than that I really don't think she ever hangs out with anyone." He says kicking his feet up on the desk and leaning back in his chair. I look over at her. _. It seems to be a little girly for her. But then again, it was her parents who named her, not herself. She's got her skull candy headphones on, the fix I think, the black buds hidden by her hair and blends with her jacket. She shifts and I hear a jingle. On closer inspection I see a dog tag on a chain, with a house key, and some other keys on it. Her dark blue skinny jeans have a thin strip of leather running down the sides of her legs. Her feet are covered in black military combat boots. She's clearly not paying attention to the teacher, but neither am I.


	3. Chapter 2

2P! America X Reader: Dear Lemon-Lima Ch.2

Swearing, violence, and flirtation.

I had plugged in my headphones, I couldn't listen to the class like usual. I had stepped out of my comfort zone when Kat threw her pen at me. Usually, I would ignore her, but something was different today. Today I felt a burning anger when she did. When I had looked, Kat was all over some dude. Who, in all honesty, looked unimpressed with her advances. However, he looked at me with a gleam in his eye, he looked at me as though I was a challenge to overcome. When it was all said and done, I had crushed Kat's pen in my hand, and flipped the dude. He had touched me, and I _HATE_ being touched. But I felt like something was off, almost like he knew my secret.

I watch him from the corner of my eye. He's staring at me. He looks a lot like Alfred, maybe that's his twin. Yeah, his EVIL twin. I smirk lightly at that thought. He looks like he's trying to understand me, but like Emerson said 'To be great is to be misunderstood'. I am so shy, and because of that my actions come out as guarded and aggressive, even though I'm hiding my fear.

I rip my headphones from my ears and snarl at the three boys surrounding my desk, "What?"

"Kesesese. Weren't you paying attention Frau? The teacher paired the awesome me and my friends with you for our culture assignment." The white haired, red eyed boy laughs out. Fuck. A group assignment. I sigh and run my hand through my hair again. The not yet dried ink comes off on my hand. I stare at it for a few moments, the ink looks kind of like blood.

"Mon dieu! What happened Mon amour? Is that blood?" The blonde Frenchie asks. Sissy boy.

"Amiga, are you okay?" The tan, green eyed Spaniard asks, with far too much concern for just meeting me. The albino just looks in awe at the red ink. They all look thoroughly confused when I laugh.

"What's so funny Frau?" The albino asks confused, and slightly worriedly.

"The fact that you three Bakas thought think that this red ink is blood!" I laugh at their idiocy and dumbfounded expressions. They all look relieved and slightly confused. So I decide to explain what happened. "You know Kat? Don't answer that, you've probably at least done her once. What a whore." I scoff, "She threw her pen at me, because the guy's pants she was trying to get into was more interested in watching me walk down the hallway than her practically humping his leg. I got pissed, and crushed it in my hand. Then I ran my hand through my hair in annoyance, then I turned and began walking away. That's when Alfred's look a-like grabbed my shoulder. I flipped him over my shoulder and kept walking."

"You assaulted Al and lived to tell the tale? Chika, you've got some major cojones doing that." The Spaniard whistled.

"Mon amour, you should be more feminine. Being masculine will ruin your beauty!" The blonde Frenchie says dramatically. If only they knew how I got most of my money. They'd be scarred for life.

"I like you Frau! You should hang out with us from now on, Ja?" The albino German said with his annoying laugh. I grunt and roll my eyes.

"Let's get started. The sooner we finish the sooner I don't have to see your fugly faces."

"Frau, why so cold to the BTT? You're as cold as the ice that chills mien awesome beer!"

"Okay so what nationalities are you from, not that I can't figure that out myself." I say ignoring the three as they try to flirt with me. "Spain," I say pointing to the Spaniard. "France," I say pointing at the Frenchie. Careful to retract my hand before he grabs and kisses it. "And German." I point at the albino. He goes red, like redder than the tomato that the Spaniard was munching on.

"PRUSSIAN! NOT GERMAN! I AM AN AWESOME PRUSSIAN!" he yells angrily. I stick my finger in my ear and wiggle it around trying to get some of my hearing back.

"Yeah, whatever the fuck you say, Cabrón." A hand clamps down on my shoulder and I stiffen.

"Hey, Doll, these boys aren't giving you any trouble are they?" I shift and glare at Alfred's evil twin. The trio look pale, well paler in the albino's case. I let out a growl at the newcomer and place my hand over his, crushing it in my hand.

"I'll give you three seconds to remove your hand from me, before I break your nose, jaw, and arm. Then I might also flip you over my shoulder and break your balls too." I release his hand. He keeps it there, clearly not intimidated by me. So I start counting. "One… Two…"

"Okay, okay! No need for violence Doll face." He says removing his hand from me and taking a step back. Good, because I wasn't bluffing.

"You are you? Rocky? 'Cause I'm sure as hell not Ginger." He kind of just stares at me weirdly before telling me his name. Turns out I was right. He is Alfred's evil twin.

"The names Jones, Al F. Jones." Who does he think he is? James Bond? No that'd be Kirkland. "What's your name Doll face?"

"Like I'll tell you."

"I can ask your friends."

"They're not my friends, they're barely acquaintances."

"But they still know your name."

"Not likely."

"Hey Frenchie! What's the Doll face's name?"

"Mon ami, I don't know. I call her Mon amour." The French man replies shrugging. He looks kind of regretful that he doesn't know my name.

"I call her Amiga or Chika." The Spaniard adds.

"I call her Frau, and possibly something more when I take her with mien awesome five meters." The albino says confidently.

"The only 'thing' your 'awesome five meters' are taking is a trip to the _hospital_ if you try _anything_." I tell him totally dead panning. His friends and Al laugh while he tries to come up with a complete comeback like a sputtering idiot. I turn to Al. "So, are you going to stand there and waste my time or are you going to go and do the assignment with your partner?"

"I— "

"You'll come with me, Da? We want a good grade." Ivan, a tall intimidating Russian asks, or really demands, clamping his hand down on Al's shoulder. "I'm sorry to interrupt sunflower, but Al and I need to complete our project."

"No problem Ivan. Say hi to your sisters for me."

"Of course. You're still coming over for dinner, Da?"

"Dinner? She's no—"Al begins defensively. I cut him off.

"Of course! I can't wait for what Natalia has planned."

"Wonderful." Ivan finishes our mini conversation. "Come along Al, until tonight sunflower."

"Alright people, we don't have all day. Introduce yourselves." I give the shocked trio my attention.

"I am Gilbert, the awesome Prussian! And you will want mien awesome five meters!"

"I am Francis Bonnefoy, The French man of amour, mon amour."

"I am Antonio Fernando Carriedo, I grow the best tomatoes in all of Spain!"

"_(F/N)_ _(L/N)_. Bastard child of the world. If there's a race for it, I've got it. Next question. Favorite colors."

"Yellow, white, and red!" Gilbert shouts. God he's annoying, but he looks like he would be a caring friend… What am I thinking?! I'm shy, he can't be my friend!

"Ze color of roses." Francis replies, still flirting with me. One more flirt and I'm hitting him over the head.

"The red of mi Tomates, and Lovi when he's embarrassed." Toni, as I have dubbed him, says dreamily. Is he in love with Lovi? Hey- wait- HE KNOWS LOVI?

"Black, (F/C), and (2F/C). You know Lovi?" I say turning to Toni. He nods enthusiastically.

"SÍ! I know Lovi, mi little tomate!" Then something dawns on me. I point to each of them.

"You're the Tomato Bastard! And you're the Potato Bastard! And you're the French bastard! Or maybe that's what Kirkland calls you…" I pause to think while Francis explodes.

"Zhat black sheep o' Europe! He wouldn't know fashion if it bit him on the ass!" Arthur over hears this and stalks over. You could almost see steam shooting from his ears. His face is real red too.

"WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT ME FROG!?" He yells at Francis. Francis calmly replies.

"I am saying that you don't know a thing about fashion and that you can't cook!"

"WHY YOU BLOODY FROG!" Arthur charges at Francis and they try to strangle each other. I look on in amusement.

"Aren't you going to do something Frau? You did start it." Gilbert states pointing to the too as they roll around on the floor dodging and throwing punches. I'm surprised the teacher hasn't woken up yet. Maybe he took sleeping pills?

"Yep." I say as I pull up a chair for front row seats and grab my bag of popcorn from my messenger bag. It was the left over from my breakfast. "Here have some popcorn."


	4. Chapter 3

2P! America X Reader: Dear Lemon-Lima Ch.3

Swearing, violence, sweetness

When the teacher woke up, the whole class almost got detention. I was one of the unlucky few who got detention. Me along with Francis, Arthur, Al, and Gilbert all got detention. That totally sucks! That means I'll be late to Ivan's. When school got out I looked toward Ivan, who shot me a sympathic and understanding glance. He knew I'd be a little later and they would postpone until I arrived. I smiled lightly at him as a thank you.

In the detention room I plugged back into my music, tuning out the world and slipping into my wonderland. I had all but forgotten about the real world. I mouthed the words to the song at first, then I whispered them. Soon I was full out singing them. I was so deep in my wonderland that I even began to dance along to the music.

"_We were born to break the doors down,_

_Fight until the end,_

_It's something that's inside of us,_

_It's how we've always been, yeah,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_We are the misfits,_

_We are the bad kids,_

_The de-degenerates,_

_We ain't perfect, but that's alright!_

_Love us or hate us,_

_Nothing can break us,_

_Better believe us,_

_Times there are a-changing tonight,_

_We the ones who flirt with disaster,_

_On your ass we'll pounce like a panther,_

_Cut out the bull shit with a dagger,_

_With a dagger, with a dagger,_

_Do or Die, we all gonna stay young,_

_Shoot out the lights like a machine gun,_

_Think it's time for a revolution,_

_Revolution, revolution,_

_We were born to break the doors down,_

_Fight until the end, yeah,_

_It's something that's inside of us,_

_It's how we've always been, yeah,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Now this is our time,_

_Our generation,_

_And now we're impatient,_

_Animals you ready to fight?_

_Fight for the fuck ups,_

_Stand up for true love,_

_We'll never give up,_

_Live like it's our last night alive,_

_We the ones who flirt with disaster,_

_On your ass we'll pounce like a panther,_

_Cut out the bull shit with a dagger,_

_With a dagger, with a dagger,_

_Do or Die, we all gonna stay young,_

_Shoot out the lights like a machine gun,_

_Think it's time for a revolution,_

_Revolution, revolution,_

_We were born to break the doors down,_

_Fight until the end, yeah,_

_It's something that's inside of us,_

_It's how we've always been, yeah,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Born to-,_

_Yeah-ah,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Yeah-ah,_

_Yeah,_

_We were born to break the doors down,_

_Fight until the end, yeah,_

_It's something that's inside of us,_

_It's how we've always been, yeah,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior,_

_Warrior-ior-ior."_

When I finish I smile softly as I come back from wonderland. I open my eyes to find everyone in the room staring at me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Al's P.O.V. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Doll face sings beautifully. Her song is kind of ironic, as we're in detention. When she realizes that she has every one's full attention, her eyes go wide, and the cutest red blush makes its way over her nose and cheeks. She then looks at the ground and fumbles with her stuff, muttering apologies left and right. Damn, she's cute when she's embarrassed. As the teacher comes to tell us that detention is over and we can go home, Doll face high tails it out of there. Damn! She's fast too. I almost didn't realize she was gone until it was almost too late. The more I find out about her, the more I'm convinced that _ is the mystery writer. As I walk to my baby, where my crew's waiting for me, I see _ rip out of the parking lot on her motorcycle. That seals it! She really is the mystery writer. Now, if only I could talk to her without being interrupted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Reader's P.O.V. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I arrive at Ivan's I park my motorcycle in the drive way, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally! I can relax. I knock on their door. Ivan opens the door and envelopes me in a hug. I hug him back. Shortly after he releases me from our hug, a knife buries itself in the door frame. Natalia glares at me. I glare back.

"He's like a brother to me. I wouldn't steal him from you."

"Like that tells me anything." She sneers. I laugh and she smiles.

"You know what I mean!"

"Yeah, I do. Why are you late?"

"I had detention."

"For what? You never do anything." I smirk at her.

"For assaulting two people and for encouraging a fight." She looks at me like 'our sweet _? Assault people? Never! Encourage a fight? Well… okay yeah she'd do that'. "One of them happened to be Al. He touched me. I don't like being touched unless I know the person very well."

"Ah, yup that explains it. What about the other assault?" She asks nodding her head.

"Kat threw her pen at me. For some reason it made really mad. I crushed her pen and lifted her off the ground. She freaked out and later told the teacher about it. She continently left out the part where she was trying to get someone to have sex with her in the hallway." I say laughing about it. Natalia laughs with me. "So what's for dinner?"

"Well…" Natalia rattles off several different dishes in Russian as I follow her and her brother to the dining room. Well, looks like I'm getting surprise for dinner, like usual. At least it all smells good.

"Alright. I'll be a good sport and try a little of everything." I tell her as Ivan starts putting food on the plates. "Privet, Katuysha."

"Privet _. How was school for you?" She asks softly.

"Eh. I've had better, I had detention today, and no you don't want to know why." I tell her, about as stoic as Natalia. Katuysha just shakes her head and smiles. We go throughout dinner with little talk. They really want me to move in with them since I'm over nearly every day. I would, but I don't want them to know my secret. I don't what hem to find what I have hidden away in my soul and my house. I can't risk losing them because of it. Being as it was late I stayed the night. Really Ivan forced me to. I didn't mind too much though, it warmed my soul to know that they care so much.

As I laid in my bed (they insisted on me having my own room when I came over), I thought about how I act in life. If anything I'm tsundere. Although, sometimes it flips and I turn yandere. Then sometimes I'm kuundere. I find my life incredibly complicated. Sleep won't find me tonight. So I pull out a piece of paper and a pen and I write another letter to Lemon-Lima.

Maybe, maybe tomorrow will be better. Maybe the voices will leave me alone. Maybe I'll find more friends than just Ivan and his sisters. Maybe tomorrow I can find enough money to pay my bills. So many 'maybes'. I guess I'll just have to wait for tomorrow to find out. Maybe it's the maybes that keep me going.


	5. Chapter 4

2P! America X Reader: Dear Lemon-Lima Ch.4

Violence, gore, blood, Sexual themes (No sex), swearing, nudity.

When I checked the mail box there was another letter addressed to L.L., I decide to write back. Maybe I can get her to open up. I open her letter.

'Dear Lemon-Lima,

It's me again. Yesterday was horrible. We had group assignments. Then I got detention, and to top it all off, I sang in front of the others in detention! To think it all started with Kat throwing her pen at me. Then Al grabbed my arm, I hate being touched, unless I know the person very well. An old childhood memory of mine. I was kidnapped when I was about eight years old, I was going on nine. They kidnapped me just because we live in a big house. However, we didn't have money, far from it. We were nearly dirt poor. Mom was never completely aware of her surroundings. Like whether or not I was with her. Not that it mattered as I went out by myself all the time. They never harmed me too bad. Just a few cuts and bruises here, a few broken bones there. But then they started getting antsy. They brought prostitutes over and fucked them, afterward they killed them. Only they got tired of having to kill their playthings because they saw or heard me. They decided that I'd be their plaything. They never got the chance to rape me though.'

Anger flared through me as I stared at those words over and over. I finally crumpled the letter and fought the urge to tear it to pieces. I hadn't finished it yet and I needed to know what happened. I unrumpled the wrinkled letter and read on.

'They were going to, they touched me all over to get me to respond to them. I'd never been more scared in my life then that moment. I knew no one was coming to rescue me. No prince on a white horse, no knight in shining armor. Not even my own father, my mom didn't even realize I was gone. There was no one I could cry out for help to. I didn't believe to strongly in any god, I dabbled in many different gods, but I knew none of them could save. So I didn't pray. So I did what I could and I surprised them. I allowed them to remove my clothes and kiss me all over. One of them stuck his fingers in me and another stuck his cock in my mouth. I bit down as hard as I could, severing whatever he could fit in my mouth from his body. I was so numb, I couldn't feel _anything._ I couldn't feel the coldness, the warmth of his blood and semen as it sprayed all over my face. I couldn't taste the bit of his cock in my mouth. He screamed horribly, but all it did was make my anger grow. How dare he cry out at the pain I caused him! I never once cried out from the pain they caused me. Not once. That scared them to some degree. A nine year old girl, partially starved and covered in cuts and bruises gets a broken wrist, and all she does is stare at it before snapping it back into place and tightly wrapping it. I spit his severed appendage from my mouth and pick up the crow bar that he dropped. I didn't stop to think whether or not what I was doing was bad or not, but it couldn't have been, because it felt _so right. _I just swung the crow bar with everything I had, _right into his head. _I didn't stop with him, no. When he was dead and his buddies came to reality they tried to get me to stop, I just targeted them. I didn't stop until they all were dead. I couldn't recognize them, how disfigured they were. Their mouths were open in eternal agony. Poor souls never had a chance. I dragged them from the warehouse to a close river. I dumped them in and walked in after them. I washed as much blood from me as I could. I still couldn't feel anything, it was as though everything I once felt had been sucked out in those few hours. They police still haven't found their killer, and that was nearly ten years ago. Once I saw my house and my mom on the front porch offering cookies to where she thought I was, I could feel again. Relief flooded me. I swear I cried some as I embraced her. One of the rarer moments we had. Ever since then a feeling will well up inside me. The need to kill, to hear the cries of my victims, the feel of their warm blood as it sprays me. What a wonderful feeling it is. But I try, I try to hold on to the little bit of sanity I have left. I really can't help it. It's all my mom's fault, for not noticing I was gone. My dad's for not being there for me. The police for not investigating the missing prostitutes. But never my fault. No, I didn't do anything wrong, I was a victim. I'd move in with my friend Ivan and his sisters, but I can't risk them finding out my secret. I can't lose them, their as close to family as I'm getting now a days. It feels good to get this secret out. Cross your fingers, hopefully today will be better.

-Killer Instinct'.

I stare in awe at her letter. Such a young age for such violence. I have to write back now, I have to let her know she's not the only one. I take my lighter out and burn her letter. No one can know it ever existed. It can't fall into anyone's hands. Not even my families.

When we go to school I see _ walking to class. Such beauty. Definitely an angel trumpet if I ever saw one. Beautiful, yet so deadly. Kat tries to throw herself at me again, doesn't she realize I have no interest in her? I side step her and she sprawl face first to the ground. When _ saw what happened a smile like an angel graced her lips and a sound like silver bells came from her parted lips. Her smile and laugh were certainly beautiful. I throw a smile in her direction, she didn't see it, or if she did she's good at hiding it. God the more I find out about her the more I want to know her. The more I fall in love with her. That's something I haven't felt in quite a while. Artie, Matt, and Francis know about my suspicions, so they don't say a thing when I sit next to her instead of them. She ignores me. How is it that she can be so immune to my charm? Normally all I had to do was throw a smile and a wink and I'd have them falling all over themselves. Yet, she doesn't seem to be effected by me at all. That's just a depressing thought. I sigh and begin working on my letter to her. I work on it all day, and the teachers don't mind. They all think I'm working on school work. Idiots.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Reader's P.O.V. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Al sits next to me. I ignore him, maybe he'll go away. Why won't he leave me to my ignominy? H won't, I know. I don't like it, it's almost as though he knows my secret. It looks like he's doing his work, but he's not. Al keeps on glancing up at me before continuing to write. I have to wonder why. My mind wonders to this morning, when I put my letter in the mail box. My previous letter was gone. Who took it? Has someone been reading them? I hope not. At least I didn't put too much information as to who I was in them. Otherwise I'd be screwed. I knew I was crazy, I write to a dead person, and somehow my letters vanish from the mail box. I'm usually quiet, and invisible. But lately, not so much. More and more people have been noticing me. Frankly it scares me. I hadn't done anything to deserve the attention, so why am I being put in the center of it? Ivan's gotten more protective of me, the BTT insist we hang out and they even follow me. Kat's been harassing me, and Al won't take his eyes off of me. Like he's afraid that if he does I'll vanish. He's right, I would. Even his posse seem to be keeping an eye on me. I'm pretty sure Natalia's been stalking me too, and keeping some of the prying eyes away. Why won't every one leave me alone? I'm nothing special, so why the sudden change in attitude toward me? It scares me more than anything, because the beast I keep locked inside me grows more blood thirsty every day. I can't do anything to satisfy it with all the eyes on me. If I don't crusade soon, I might not be able to control it and hurt someone innocent. My temper flares, and is getting shorter. I glare if someone talks to me, I growled at Ivan, I scared him. What is wrong with me? It's not me though, at least I don't think it is. It's the monster, the beast I keep caged. That cage is weakening. I can't concentrate. I scribble out a sort letter to Lemon-Lima. I place it in my pocket for tonight. It read, 'Dear Lemon-Lima, I can't take it anymore. I have to go out tonight. Hopefully who ever I come across is rich enough to pay my bills. Hopefully no one will hear them when they scream.

-Psycho Maniac'.

The day went quickly. I felt skittish and jumpy. Paranoia filled my brain, like it always does. I felt like every shadow moved, every echo was someone breathing, walking, following me. Every flash of light was someone's eyes, watching, waiting for my guard to drop. When I made it to the mail box, and I went to put my letter in, there was one waiting for me. I remove it, replacing it with my own. On the envelope read 'K.I.', I whip my head around, the coast is clear. I hurried back to my home. It was quite large, three stories, had at least eight bedrooms, and six bathrooms. It also had a basement. Everything else was like a normal house. The basement doubled as a garage. It was situated in a hill, leaving the back of the basement exposed. It had a garage door. Inside I stored my steampunk motorcycle, I built it from spare parts, polished and shined it. I grab my bloodied skull helmet, it went completely over my head. I changed my biker jacket for a spiked black leather biker jacket. The spikes were on my arms, shoulders and around my collar. Once everything was one I grab my .50 caliber magnum, placing it in my jacket pocket. I strap my twin black katanas on my back under my jacket. Then I strap my cricket bat to my back. It was a beauty, it looked so smooth, but it had tiny sharp glass shards and sharp metal bits. You couldn't see the shards and bits until you touched it and searing pain made its way to your brain, flooding your vision. I poisoned the shards along with my katanas. I laced my bullets with curare. I was ready for a night of killing.


End file.
